Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
D iego hurt in accident. Come home.
The text from her mother flashed across Kash’s screen like a blade, cutting through the lazy hum of the salon, slicing straight into her spine.
For a second, everything inside her went blank. Like nothing but a pure void existed inside her. Then the world slammed back into focus.
The roar of the hair dryers. The cloying scent of hair spray and vanilla shampoo. The stylist’s hands sectioning her hair with casual chatter.
Her own reflection in the mirror—damp strands clinging to her temples, one side of her hair half-blown smooth, the other pinned awkwardly up with a bright pink clip.
Kash’s stomach turned over so violently she thought she might throw up.
Her body moved before her brain could catch up, ripping the cape off, grabbing her purse, heart hammering painfully against her ribs.
She fumbled her wallet open, slammed two hundred-dollar bills down onto the counter. "Emergency," she choked out, backing away toward the door. "I’m sorry?—"
The salon door banged open under her shoulder. The late afternoon sunlight hit her like a slap, too bright, too hot, making reality that much harder to bear.
No, he couldn’t be hurt.
Please God. Not in a bad way. Not Diego.
If anything happened to him, she would...
Her thoughts spun out dangerously, all the trauma from hearing about Kat and Simon’s car accident rushing at her.
No. Life couldn’t be that cruel to her. Not twice.
Kash sprinted to her car, keys in her fist, flyaway strands of hair sticking to her sweaty cheeks. Her mouth was dry, chest heaving. The world blurred at the edges as she jammed the key into the ignition, her hands slipping once, twice.
Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath. It wouldn’t help anyone if she drove in such a panicked state.
Call Mona or Chaaru.
The thought skittered through her mind, but her fingers wouldn’t move toward her phone. Because if she called, if she heard the wrong tone in their voices, she couldn’t even drive properly.
It’s okay, she whispered to herself as she threw the car into gear.
He’s okay. He’s strong. He’s stubborn. He survived an injury that shattered his ankle. He will survive this too.
And whatever happens, I’ll help him through it. Be by his side, no matter what.
The tires screeched slightly as she tore out of the parking lot. Traffic lights blurred. She drove on pure instinct—heart in her throat, fingers white-knuckled around the wheel, sweat rolling down her spine.
The sky seemed too blue, too wide, the trees flashing past like ghosts as she arrived at her house. She parked down the street and ran, not caring to check if her spot had been left alone on the driveway.
Slippers and sandals and shoes and a few unopened boxes made a dangerous maze for her to rush through. She shoved through the front door, the heavy wood banging open against the wall.
Voices blurred and spun around her, sharp, frantic, overlapping. Someone reached for her elbow. She shook them off, her heart thundering so hard she couldn’t hear her own breath.
And then, she found him.
Sitting on the living room couch, dusty and pale, his left leg awkwardly stretched out on a stack of pillows. But his face, his beautiful, infuriatingly gorgeous face, was unbloodied. Unbruised. A sheen of sweat coated his skin and his pallor was white.
His dark eyes tracked her with a kind of stunned stillness before he said, “Kash?”
Relief slammed into her with the force of a crashing wave. Her knees buckled.
He was fine. He was alive. He was...here.
She dropped to the floor, breath whooshing out of her chest, a raw, uncontrollable sob breaking free.
* * *
The pain in Diego’s ankle was a steady, punishing throb.
He sat slumped on the couch, his left leg propped carefully on a couple of pillows, the makeshift compression wrap already in place.
Across the room, Kaif, Muriel, and a few of the cousins were deep in hushed conversation, arguing quietly about logistics.
ER or urgent care. Driving him themselves or calling for an ambulance.
Waiting for the swelling to go down or getting an x-ray immediately.
He barely heard them. Frustration boiled under his skin, thick and bitter, at his own body betraying him again. He had never tolerated being helpless that well to start with.
It hadn’t been too bad of a fall from the ladder but of course he had landed on his bad ankle which folded like a fucking wet paper straw under him.
The last thing Muriel or anyone else needed the day before the wedding was this kind of incident. Thank God his mother had gone back to their house with Muriel’s mama, or he would have her crying to contend with. Luckily, Tia was spending the day with them too.
Now if only he could tell Kaif and Muriel to?—
The front door slammed open with a force that shook the rafters.
Kash came hurtling through the doorway like a hurricane unleashed.
Her hair was half-straight, half-wild, one side sleek and glossy, the other curling frantically toward the sky. Her chest heaved, her hands were shaking. She looked feral, terror and rage and heartbreak dancing across her features.
Fear fisted his stomach tight. He tried to push himself up instinctively, wanting to go to her. Pain ripped up his leg, locking him down.
He barely managed to brace himself with one arm on the couch before she was dropping hard to her knees on the floor, her body collapsing under the weight of whatever had driven her here.
"You asshole!" she yelled, amidst a choked sob, the words cutting like a whip through the stunned quiet of the room. "Was this just another trick to manipulate me?"
The entire house froze, and he stared at Kaif and Muriel in confusion.
A glass clinked faintly in the kitchen. Someone outside yelled something, but even that seemed muted, distant.
“Kash, what are you talking about?” he said, hating that he was so far away from her.
Her eyes glittered with fury and despair, an expression he never wanted to see again. “Mom texted me that you had an accident. I thought something bad happened to you and I...”
The soft, choking sobs that followed frayed Diego apart. Damn it, when had Neena even texted Kash? Seeing how pale the older woman had gotten after seeing Diego fall, Mona and Chaaru had rushed her out of the house.
All he could feel, more powerful than the pain pulsing up from his ankle, stronger than the helpless fury, was the overwhelming need to reach Kash. To touch her and hold her and kiss her.
Kaif moved without a word, sliding under Diego’s good arm.
Gritting his teeth so hard that he tasted blood, Diego let Kaif help him up, not putting any weight on his injured ankle. Every muscle in that leg screamed, but he didn’t care.
He hopped, half-carried by Kaif, until he was in front of Kash. Then he dropped to his knees, harder than he should have, jolting the bad ankle, but it didn’t matter.
Only she mattered.
He reached for her gently, carefully, and when she didn’t push him away—when she swayed toward him as if her body needed him—he wrapped her up in his arms. "Shh...breathe, sweetheart," he murmured into her sweaty hair, voice breaking with how much he needed to soothe her. "I fell from the ladder and landed on my bad ankle.” He kissed her temple, hating the tremors shaking her. “I’m hurt, yes, but I’m here with you. Right here, baby.”
Only a choked gasp came from her, as if she didn’t dare believe him.
"I would never play such a cruel trick on you, Kash. Ever. I’m sorry for making that stupid play in the first place at the Sangeet.” His hand moved slowly up and down her back, soothing, steady. In the face of her pain, his heart felt like a lead weight in his chest, stealing his breath. “I would cut my heart out before even thinking of hurting you, Kash. You have to believe me, Preciosa. Please.”
Finally, Kash looked at him.
Tears clung to her long lashes, and mascara drew dark trails under her eyes. Wordlessly, she clutched at fistfuls of his shirt in her hands and buried her face against his chest.
She cried harder, shoulders shaking violently with the force of it.
Diego held her tighter, his own eyes tearing up. His heart lodging in his throat, he whispered, “It’s okay, baby. Cry if you need to. Or rage at me. But I’m not leaving you, Kash. Ever again.”
* * *
It felt like an eternity had passed when Kash pulled out of his arms. Not before she made a show of wiping her nose against his shirt, her movements jerky.
When she looked up, her brown eyes full of questions, he grimaced, but held her gaze. Though it was mostly because of the painful throbbing of his ankle.
With a loud, filthy curse, she scooted back from him and looked at the wrap around his ankle. Which couldn’t hide the tennis-ball sized swelling.
Before he could pull in another pained breath, Kash spun around. "Why the hell is he still sitting here?" she shouted, her voice slicing through the stunned silence of the room. "Get the damn car! He needs to be at the ER. Now!"
People scrambled into motion—chairs scraping, keys jangling, voices overlapping in sudden bursts.
When she turned back to face him, Diego tried on a half-smirk. Which was absolutely the last thing to throw at her.
The fury in her face twisted into something even wilder, even more wrecked. She stabbed a shaking finger at him, words bursting out in a helpless, furious roar. "You're a fucking millionaire!" she snapped. "What macho thing are you trying to prove by going up on wobbly ladders? There are people counting on you, Diego. Me and Tia and…me.”
He blinked, still dizzy from pain and the emotional wreckage she was unleashing.
Before he could answer, she whirled on Kaif. "And you cheapskate! Couldn't you hire someone to do it?"
Kaif opened his mouth like he wanted to defend himself. Then, wisely, thought better of it.
Diego watched her, barely breathing. Falling deeper and deeper in love with this untamed, fierce version of her.
Hair wild, chest heaving, hands clenched into fists at her sides, she looked like a furious, gorgeous goddess, come to demand her offerings.
His heart pounded against his ribs, the pain in his ankle a dull roar in the background. As his mind chanted in an endless loop, She loves me.
He needed her to look at him. Needed her to finish what she’d started, before she buried it under panic and logistics and defenses. Even the shooting pain from his ankle would be worth it if it finally broke down the last wall standing between them. He wasn’t going to wait another minute.
"Kash!" he barked, loud enough to break through the chaos. It sounded half-strangled since he was in acute pain. And because, he rarely, if ever, raised his voice.
She froze, spinning back toward him, eyes wide. “Are you in pain? Did anyone give you a painkiller?”
"You can't just go back to your usual tight-lipped-self after losing it like that," he said, his voice cracking around the edges. He swallowed past the gnarly emotion in his throat and tried a different tack. “You can’t ask me to pretend like I didn’t see you lose your shit when you thought I was hurt.”
For a moment, she just stared at him, mouth open, cheeks flushed, hands trembling. “You want to do this now, Ferrara?”
He grinned, thoroughly enjoying the deer-in-headlights expression in her eyes. “Yes, Doc. Now. I’m in a shitload of pain. I need something to make me forget it. A whole lotta something and I want it now.”
One shapely eyebrow rose in her face. “That’s how you want to play this?”
The little bite that came back to her tone made his pain seem like nothing. He loved it so much when she fought him every inch like this. Because then, his victory was a heady thing. “You started this, Kash. Accusing me of cheap tricks, calling me a macho idiot.”
She crossed the room in a few clumsy steps, stumbled, caught herself, and dropped hard onto her knees in front of him again.
His heart roared in his chest, in his ears. “I like being your dirty secret, Kash. But I want more.” It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, to put everything on the line like that. “I have wanted more for a while and I can’t deny myself anymore.”
Her brown eyes glittered as they swept over him. Then without hesitation, without caring that they were surrounded by curious, agape wedding guests, she cupped his jaw in her palms, leaned in, and kissed him.
It was barely a brush of her lips against his, but it shattered him more thoroughly than the fall had. Her forehead pressed against his, the arrogant bridge of her nose nuzzling his. The sheer tenderness in the gesture flooded him like a river washing away the last of his uncertainties.
He needed words too, yes, but touch had always been their first communicator. An airy lightness filled him, his hand shaking as he cupped her shoulder. Still, he restrained himself because he wanted her admission.
Her surrender. Her claiming of him. Whatever she wanted to call it.
And then, he would put the world and all its happiness at her feet. He would be at her feet, ready to worship her, ready to love her for the rest of their lives.
She pulled back and looked at him. Fresh tears streaked down her cheeks. "I'm in love with you,” she whispered with such awe that it felt like a sacred vow. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I will spend the rest of my life thanking my lucky stars that you are mine.”
Diego closed his eyes for a second, the words crashing into him like a goddamn tidal wave. The world tilted sideways under him, wrecked him and steadied him at the same time. Remade his entire universe in mere seconds.
His own tears trailed down his cheeks as he opened his eyes. Her half-smile, half-cry was a shimmering vision before she pressed her face into his neck, every inch of her trembling. “Please tell me you’re mine.”
He circled the nape of her neck, letting his fingers creep up into her hair and tugged hard until the brown gaze met his. “As much as the sun and stars shine in the sky, Preciosa.”
And then he kissed her. Tasted the salt of her tears, the sweetness of his name on her lips as she chanted it over and over, drove his tongue into her mouth and licked her up with a ravaging hunger. He pulled her into his lap and stroked over the strong shoulders, the slender back, the lush thrust of her hips. The rub and slide of her breasts against his arm drove him wild.
But it wasn’t just desire as much as it was a possessive, feverish yearning—and relief—that made a hungering beast out of him. “You’re mine, Kash. For an eternity and more,” he said, between biting kisses.
“Yours,” Kash whispered, trailing kisses up his jaw, over his temple, the tip of his nose. “No one has ever wanted me or loved me or claimed me for their own as you do, darling.” With each word, she peppered more kisses over his face. “No one has ever made me feel so right in my own skin. I love you so much that it terrifies me. What if?—”
“No what ifs, no maybes, no clauses, Doc. We belong to each other,” Diego said, swallowing her fears and taking her mouth for a ride again.
On and on their kiss went, already different from other kisses. A thousand promises and pleas swirling in it, morphing into a prayer that their hearts sang.
Someone cleared a throat.
“Should have known these two will steal my spotlight,” Muriel said in an exaggeratedly loud tone. “Didn’t I tell you, Kaif?”
It was Kaif’s uncharacteristically loud laughter that broke the addicting spell of their frantic kiss. “You also said you were going to get a lot of good karma from throwing them together for the wedding events, Muri.”
“True dat,” Muriel said, words overflowing with pride. “Yo, lovebirds! You want to cut it out now? We have to bring D to the ER and luckily for you two, the two Mamas aren’t here to make a big deal out of this.” She sighed, then went on. “I’m guessing you don’t want to tell them today, the day before my wedding? Because let’s face it, both my aunt and your mom will make it all about them.”
Kash laughed, pulled back and looked over her shoulder at his cousin. “How are you already the best sister I could ever ask for?”
Affection danced in Kaif’s eyes as he encircled his almost-bride from behind and kissed her temple.
“Okay, people,” Muriel said, clapping so hard that Kash hid her face in Diego’s neck again. Not that she needed an excuse anymore to do so. This man, and his generous heart, were all hers now. “Nobody say anything to my aunt or Kaif’s mom about the heartfelt declarations or the blatant horniness we all just witnessed from my cousin and my almost sis-in-law, you hear? Or you will feel my wrath.”
Appropriate shudders and happy affirmatives broke out among the crowd before they dispersed.
Kash pulled back and studied his face. “You must be in hell with your ankle swelling to that size,” she said, regret lacing her words. “I’m sorry I made it worse.”
“You make it more than bearable, Preciosa.” Then he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his heart overflowing with things he wanted to say, his mind churning with plans he wanted to make. With her. For their future.
But before he could decide what to start with, Kash leaned in again, her mouth brushing the shell of his ear, her words a breathy promise. "If you don’t get better soon," she whispered, "and fuck me until your cum is dripping down my thighs at all hours, I won’t marry you."
A broken sound escaped Diego, his body tensing against hers. He should have known that his beautiful, strong, girl would beat him to the punch.
For years, he’d had a taste of her devotion to his daughter, to her family. And now, he couldn’t wait to be on the receiving end of this woman’s faith and love and care.
Sliding his hands into her hair, he cradled her closer, needing to feel every lush inch of her. "You want to get hitched, Doc?" he rasped against the corner of her mouth, still barely able to believe it. “Become my wife and get knocked up and raise my babies?”
“I already raise your baby,” she said, nipping at his lower lip. “I might as well get some good old wifely fucking out of it, yeah? Or maybe I want to marry you purely for the orgasms you dole out?”
He chuckled and yet somehow, she saw the last flicker of doubt in his eyes.
Shaking her head, she pressed her forehead to his. "Yes, Diego," she said. "I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your lover, your partner, your wife—everything I can be to you.” Her voice wobbled, somehow fierce and soft at once. "I want more babies with you. Only if you want them too.” She tapped the edge of his mouth, her fingertips lingering. “But if you want to pour your heart and soul into the soccer academy and only be a carefree couple whose kid will be a teen in a few years, that works for me too.” Her eyes searched his. “I want whatever this wild, crazy ride turns into. As long as you’re with me every step of the way.”
“I’m with you, Doc,” he said, tenderness for this glorious woman filling his very marrow. “And yes, I want to build a family with you. I want to do late night feedings and elementary school field trips and be those parents who show up to everything and embarrass their kids. But from the beginning and together. If we can build a girls soccer team, that would be nice.”
Kash laughed in half humor, half horror. "Then, my love, since I’m already forty-one," she added, mischievous and shaky and radiant, "we should probably get started ASAP. Which brings us full circle back to you fucking me bare."
Diego barked out a pained laugh, his ribs aching from how hard he wanted to crush her against him. His hands fisted in her hair, his body trembling not from pain but from everything he didn’t have words big enough to say.
He tilted his forehead against hers, breathing her in, feeling her heart beat against his chest. “I love you. I’m going to say it so much that you’ll get bored of it.”
“Never. Please don’t stop, ever.” Kash smiled against him, tears slipping down her cheeks, her body trembling with the force of what she felt.
Diego closed his eyes and held her tighter, anchoring himself to the only thing that had ever mattered. Their not-in-love story was just beginning. And it was already the most beautiful thing he’d ever fought for and won.